


The Christmas Song

by Daretodream66



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roommates, SO MUCH FLUFF, fluffy fluff, soft characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daretodream66/pseuds/Daretodream66
Summary: I write fluff.  I freely admit that.  This...this is...holy cow on the fluff.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81





	The Christmas Song

_Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…_

Steve looks up from his book when the apartment door opens. Max jumps from his lap, running for the kitchen. Bucky coming home means dinner, even though the cat could stand to miss a meal or two.

“Hey gorgeous.” Steve listens to Bucky croon over the cat then hears kibble being poured into her bowl. “Stevie?”

“In here.” Bucky comes around the corner smiling and finds Steve cuddled up on the sofa, blankets wrapped around his shoulders and across his lap.

“You cold? I can turn the heat up.” Bucky leans over the back of the sofa, hand pressing to Steve’s forehead. “You aren’t gettin sick are ya?”

Steve leans his head on the sofa back looking up at Bucky. “No, just needed protection from that cat and her claws.” Bucky snorts and heads to his bedroom to change. “Whada want for dinner?” He calls after Bucky who’s stripped his shirt off. Steve looks back down at the book in his lap, blushing.

Bucky is back a few minutes later in pajama pants, pulling a shirt over his head. Plopping down next to Steve he pulls the blanket to cover his feet. “How do you feel about Indian?”

Steve grins and Bucky returns it. The tall brunette knows it’s Steve’s favorite. “I’ll call. You want the usual?”

Bucky jumps up before Steve can move. “I got it. You look comfortable.”

_Jack Frost nipping at your nose…_

“I don’t think this is gonna fit, Buck.” Steve struggles to help Bucky get the tree through the door.

“Course it will.” Bucky peeks over his end of the tree. “Gotta have faith, pal.”

Steve grins then looks away. “I trust ya, but if it doesn’t, I’m gonna say I told you so.”

Bucky barks a laugh and Steve’s face softens at the sound. When Bucky looks up, Steve turns his head away quickly. “I’d expect nothin less from you.”

The tree is in the stand, next to the window. “It looks good.”

Bucky smiles brightly, bumping Steve’s shoulder. “I guess I can say I told ya so.”

Steve heads into the kitchen. “I’m makin cocoa.”

Bucky follows him in. “Your ma’s?”

Steve looks over giving him a ‘duh’ look. “Course, is there any other kind?”

Bucky quirks a grin, heading back into the living room. “Not in this house there ain’t.”

_Yuletide carols being sung by a choir…_

Steve makes his way through the streets just trying to get home. Earlier in the day, while discussing his coming art show, he’d had an asthma attack. The gallery owner had offered to call an ambulance, but Steve waved him off and pulled out his inhaler. Now though, his chest hurts and his breathing is off.

As he gets closer to the building, he sees Bucky getting out of his Uber. Looking up, Bucky smiles. Steve has trouble breathing again. “Hey punk, how was the meeting?”

Steve opens his mouth to answer, but instead he begins coughing. Bucky rushes over, pulling Steve’s arm around his shoulder. “I’m alright.” But it comes out as a wheeze and Bucky frowns.

“Doesn’t sound alright.” Tugging Steve closer, Bucky heads into the building and to the elevator.

He gets Steve settled on the sofa, blanket around his shoulders and heads into the kitchen. Steve doesn’t know what to do. When he hears the kettle whistle, he looks down at his lap and smiles. He doesn’t hear Bucky come in from the kitchen. “Whatcha smiling about?”

Steve’s head jerks up. “Oh…uh…nothing.”

Bucky hands the cup of tea over and plops down on the other end, kicking his shoes off, he wiggles his feet under Steve’s thigh. “Come on punk, what was that smile for?”

Steve clears his throat, taking a sip of tea. “Nothin really.” He cradles the cup. “Just really glad you’re in my life.”

_And folks dressed up like Eskimos…_

Bucky steps into the bar four days before Christmas looking like he’s come from wrangling penguins at the Arctic. He knows he’ll catch hell from his friends, but seven degrees is too damn cold. Unwrapping his scarf and pulling off his gloves, he makes his way to the table at the back. Steve is already there along with Sam and Nat.

Without thinking, Steve moves over allowing Bucky to slide in next to him. “How was your day, Buck?”

Bucky leans in, laying his head on Steve’s shoulder. “Thank god it’s Friday. If is wasn’t, I’d take tomorrow off.”

Steve giggles. Sam and Nat snort. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Bucky glares at her. “Did Tony come to your lab today and spend three hours talking about god knows what?” She grins. “No, I didn’t think so, Natalia!”

She gives him a glare. “Do not call me that!”

Steve leans in, getting their attention. “Let’s get some drinks before there’s a repeat of last Halloween.”

Sam gets up. “This one’s on me.”

Nat excuses herself and heads in the same direction. Steve leans in. “Was it really that bad?”

Bucky looks down into blue, blue eyes, smiling softly. “No, it was just a lot to take.”

“When we get home, I’ll run a bath for you.” Baths are Bucky guilty pleasure.

“If you do that for me, tomorrow morning I’ll make waffles.” Bucky watches a blush cover Steve’s face.

The answer is so quiet, Bucky has to lean in to hear it. “Deal.”

_Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe_

_Help to make the season bright…_

“What made us think this was a good idea?” Steve looks forlornly across the case of frozen turkeys. Bucky is staring at them like he doesn’t know what they are.

“Beats me, pal. I say we call someone and have this thing catered.” He picks up a turkey, holding it close enough to read the label. “Is 20lbs enough?”

Steve leans on the basket, staring at the apples for the pie he’s going to make. “I have no idea.” If not for an older lady that comes to get her own turkey, Steve and Bucky would still be standing there. Once home, they put everything away and leave the bird sitting on the counter.

Max jumps onto the counter, staring confused at the big, frozen thing that’s taken her spot. Bucky picks her up, sitting her by her food bowl. “If you even think of touching that turkey, I’ll have to cook you for Christmas dinner.” She looks up giving a lazy blink.

“Yeah, like you’d do anything to harm a hair on that cat’s body.” Steve drags the step ladder over to the kitchen doorway.

“What are you doing?” Bucky’s got his arms crossed over his chest.

Without looking over, Steve puts a tack into the frame then hangs a red ribbon from it. When he comes off the ladder, Steve waves his hand upward. “I was hanging that.”

Bucky walks over, inspecting the greenery tied with the red ribbon. “Mistletoe? Seriously Steve?”

“What? You know as well as I do that when our friends are drunk they’ll do anything and I wanna see Sam and Nat kiss.” He puts the ladder away. “They keep saying they aren’t dating, but I don’t believe them.” Bucky laughs and follows Steve into the living room.

_Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow_

_Will find it hard to sleep tonight…_

Steve trudges home from mass on Christmas Eve. He only goes because of his ma. It was their tradition every year and even though she’s gone, he feels like he still needs to do this for her. He knows when he gets back all of their friends will be there. Dinner will be ready and he’ll just have to get everything on the table. 

He stops outside the building and looks up at the window of his and Bucky’s apartment. Twenty years he’s known Bucky. Twenty years of having the best friend that anyone could ask for. Twenty years of laughter, tears, secrets, and life. Steve wouldn’t trade the life he has for anything, but…

Shaking off those thoughts, he heads into the building. Mrs. Delany is coming out as he’s going in. “Well Steven, Merry Christmas.”

Steve leans in, hugging her. “Merry Christmas to you too, Mrs. Delany.”

“Be sure to tell that young man of yours, Merry Christmas too.” Steve starts to correct her, but she’s in the cab and gone before he can fumble over the words.

He isn’t expecting to walk into the apartment and it be so quiet. He finds all of his and Bucky’s friends sitting at the table, places set, food already in the serving dishes, waiting. He’s surprised because Bucky had put up a fuss that he didn’t want to get the food ready because Steve was so particular about which bowls and platters to use. “What’s all this?”

Nat raises her glass and everyone else joins. “This is us taking care of you for a change.”

Steve tears up and Bucky comes around the table, hugging him. “Come on, Stevie. Let’s eat.” The meal is incredible and Steve laughs more than he thought he would considering this time of year he misses his ma something fierce. Every time he looks up, Bucky is staring at him. It makes him blush more than once.

It’s getting close to one when everyone finally leaves. The kitchen is clean and Steve’s sitting on the floor, under the tree, Max curled in his lap and a plate of pie in his hands. Bucky’s sitting on the sofa, nursing a glass of wine. Steve’s watching Max bat at his fork when he goes to cut a bite. He’s aware that Bucky’s watching him again.

Since dinner ended, Steve’s found himself to be reflective. He loves living with Bucky, but he wonders if Bucky’s happy. Looking up, he meets Bucky’s eyes. There’s a look there that Steve’s seen numerous times before, but has no name for. “Buck?”

Bucky seems to come out of whatever trance he’s in. “Hum?”

“You ever think about the future?” Steve sits the now empty plate aside, reaching down to pet Max.

“All the time.” Steve tries not to read too much into that. He doesn’t meet his friend’s eyes.

“Am I in it?” He looks up at Bucky through his lashes and Bucky’s breath stutters to a halt.

Getting off the sofa, Bucky comes over, sitting in front of Steve, resting his hand against Steve’s cheek. “Baby, you are it.”

_They know that Santa’s on his way_

_He’s loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh_

_And every mother’s child is gonna spy_

_To see if reindeer really know how to fly…_

Steve wakes slowly the next morning. He’s on the sofa, but instead of the cool draft that usually wafts through the living room, he’s warm. He can see Max under the tree, staring at him with a slow blink. Steve moves around like he might get up, but an arm around his middle keeps him in place. Last night comes back to him like roaring waves near the Boardwalk.

He can’t help the smile that blooms across his face and giggles when there’s a snuffling sound behind him. “Go back to sleep, Stevie. We don’t gotta get up.”

Steve wiggles in the iron grip until he’s turned around. “Did ya mean it, Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes blink open. “Which part?”

Steve looks up into the eyes that he’s dreamed about for years, but never did anything about. “All of it.”

Pulling Steve against him, Bucky nearly smothers him in the hug. “Every damn word. I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

_And so I’m offering this simple phrase_

_To kids from one to ninty-two_

_Although it’s been said many times, many ways_

_Merry Christmas to you._


End file.
